


The Canary

by Jael, pir8grl



Series: Voyages of the Canary [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9388769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/pseuds/Jael, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pir8grl/pseuds/pir8grl
Summary: An AU pirate/historical adventure in which Sara is the captain of the Canary,  and Snart is a jewel thief on a mission to save his sister.





	1. The North China Sea

**Author's Note:**

> CAPTAIN CANARY AWARDS 2017 ***WINNER*** BEST AU
> 
> So, I saw a book at work one day - a historical romance set on a ship. The girl in the cover art looked like Caity, so my brain immediately said "Sara and Snart on a historic ship." Jael replied with "pirates." So here we are. Enjoy!
> 
> Calling this a T for some language and what I like to call 'implied activities'.

It was light when Leonard Snart recovered his senses. He was soaked to the skin, freezing, and laying on something that bobbed uncomfortably with the motion of the tide. His stomach churned, and he abruptly rolled to the side and puked his guts out into the sea. Gasping, he flopped onto his back and flung an arm across his face to shade his eyes. He patted his coat with his other hand - the parcel was still there, thank God. Not that he had any hope of delivering it now.

He was adrift in the North China Sea, with no food, no water, and no hope. He wondered uneasily how long it would take him to die. The life he’d led, he was no stranger to the prospect of death, but the thought of being eaten alive by a shark was enough to daunt the heart of any man. And then there was Lisa - if he died here, who would save her?

He drifted for a while, the cold sinking into his bones and sapping his strength. Then he thought he heard voices, and wondered if this was the start of the madness that overtook men stranded at sea. He turned his head, and saw a lovely, pale yellow songbird perched on his raft and smiled, knowing now that he must be going mad. Then he heard it again.

“Man overboard!”  

* * *

Snart lay gasping on the deck of the ship. It was mercifully solid underneath him. And then a dagger thudded into the deck, inches from his neck. He rolled over and looked up at one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She was tiny, and blonde, and dressed in the rough clothes of a sailor - and she was balancing another of those daggers in her hand.

“My name is Sara Lance, and this is my ship. Give me a good reason not to cut your throat and throw you back for the sharks.”

A large, ruddy-faced man stepped forward. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Cap’n, but he ain’t one of them. I‘d swear to it.”

“You’re sure?” she asked sharply.

He nodded.

“You’ll both be swimming if you’re wrong. Check him for weapons.”

Mick knelt down beside the other man. “Hello, Snart.”

“Mick.” The man on the deck blinked incredulously. "I'm hallucinating, aren't I?"

"If that means, are you nuts, well, maybe. But not because yer seein' me, Snart. That's real enough."

Mick searched Snart’s coat carefully, coming up with several knives of varying sizes, a pistol, and a set of lock picks. He knew there was probably more, likely sewn into the lining of the other man’s coat, but he wagered on this being enough to satisfy the Captain. He also pulled out a sturdy canvas bag. He looked steadily into his old friend’s eyes for a moment before opening it.

Sara saw the bright green gleam and reached down to take the bag from his hands. “How did you come to have this?” she asked sharply.

“That is a very long story.”

“I suggest you make it a short one. Entertaining the sharks is still an option.”

“I don’t suppose you could spare a bit of water, first?” Snart asked with a weakness in his voice that was not entirely feigned.

Sara glared at him for a moment, then sighed. “Mick, take him below and get him some food and water. And get me some answers!”

* * *

Mick took a deep swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Last time I was home, Bartholomew told me you was tryin’ to walk the straight and narrow. What happened?”

“Lewis happened,” Snart spat.

“I’m surprised no one’s hanged him yet.”

“If only. He got himself into trouble with Damien Darhk.”

Mick made a sign to ward off the evil eye.

“Exactly. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass for Lewis, but he made a deal with Darhk. He offered him Lisa in marriage to save his own hide.”

“I’m gonna skin that rat bastard and hang him up for the crows,” Mick swore.

“The emerald, Mick. I need it. It’s not for me - it’s to ransom Lisa.” He grabbed Mick’s arm. “Please. My old friend…I’m begging. For my sister.”

Mick knew it took a great deal for this man to plead. “I’ll talk to the Cap’n, see what I can do,” he promised.

“Tell me about her,” Snart asked intently, settling back into his chair. Mick grunted in amusement at the interest in his friend's eyes.

“Sara? I’d follow her into hell.”

“That’s quite the endorsement.”

“She’s got more guts than anyone I ever known. She can drink me under the table. She’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen.”

“But she’s afraid of something." It was a statement, not a question. Snart stared at Mick, daring him to contradict the words.

Mick grunted again. “Don’t say that where she can hear you.”

“You said it yourself - ‘he ain’t one of them.’ One of who?”

Mick took a long drink. “I don’t rightly know. And I don’t want to. Anything bad enough to scare the captain - s’nothin’ I ever want to meet."

The big man shook his head. “Look…Sara’s a good woman. She ain’t in this for profit. When she takes on a target, it’s because they’re doin’ something she don’t approve of. She especially don’t approve of men who hurt women.”

“Then please," Leonard asked him, "tell her about Lisa.”

* * *

“What do you know about this man, Mick?” Sara asked intently. Mick had moved to her cabin after his conversation with the rescued man and now stood before her, an odd and distracted expression on his face.

“He’s a smuggler and a jewel thief.”

“Is that meant to reassure me?” Sara took a drink from her tankard, eyes not leaving his face. Mick, she knew, was not a good liar.

“I’ve known Snart most of his life. His father is scum - in and out of jail all the time. The best years for Snart and his sister was when they was on their own. Lisa has to have her gowns cut special to cover the marks Lewis put on her.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed in a way that boded ill for Lewis Snart, should they ever meet. She looked at the stunning emerald that rested on top of her desk. “We could take this to the slave market, and buy freedom for everyone there, or we could let Master Snart use it to free his sister. One person...or many.”

“Respects, ma’am, but what are you gonna do with a market full of slaves once you’ve bought ‘em? The _Canary'_ s built for speed, not for cargo nor passengers."

“Yeah…”

“Lisa…she’s a good girl…as good as she could be, considering how they grew up." Mick shook his head. "And she’s got a fella. He’s a scholar - he builds stuff - anything you could imagine, he can build it for ya. They could have a life. The kind of life people like you an’ me never will.”

“Yeah,” Sara repeated dully, searching for answers in the bottom of her tankard.

* * *

Snart looked around the captain’s cabin curiously. Like its owner, the chamber was a study in contrasts. On the one hand, it was a ship’s compartment, sturdy and compact. There was a desk littered with maps and charts, a compass and spyglass. There was an exquisite assortment of swords on the wall, which Snart’s eye discerned as being from multiple continents. Some of them were antiques. There was a plum-colored shawl on the bunk that he guessed to be fine cashmere, and a silver comb and hairbrush set. And then there was the captain herself, staring at him with cool blue eyes.

“My first mate vouches for your good behavior, Master Snart, so I’ll be putting you ashore at the first port we come to.” She leaned back in her seat, fixing him with a steely gaze. “I believe the words you’re searching for are ‘thank’ and ‘you,’ unless you’d care to be marooned on Lian Yu.”

Well. Credit where it's due. "Thank you." He hesitated a moment, wanting to prolong the audience without really knowing why. "You've got quite a collection there."

Sara raised an eyebrow at him, then glanced back over her shoulder at the swords. 

"Don't think I don't know how to use them all," she told him, a hint of humor in the words.

"Wouldn't have thought it. Impressive." He clarified quickly at the look on her face. "I mean, I wouldn't have thought you...I figured you know...never mind."

Was that a flash of an actual smile? "Don't forget it."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

For a second or two, there is ... connection. And then the captain's eyes flashed, and it was gone.

"Make sure you don't," she says coldly.

Snart felt the oddest pang of loss. “And my property?” he asked carefully.

“I haven’t decided yet. Mick!”

“Come on, Snart,” Mick said, grabbing his friend’s arm firmly.

* * *

Sara sat cross-legged on her bunk with her favorite shawl wrapped around her shoulders as she plied her silver comb through Sin’s short, dark hair.

“You know, you’re safe here,” she told her young friend. “You don’t have to pretend to be a boy. You could grow your hair out, if you want.”

“It’s not pretty, like yours,” Sin protested.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Who’s that man that we fished out of the water?” Sin asked.

“Never you mind.”

“Mick knows him.”

“Mick knows many people, most of them not very nice. Master Snart is a smuggler and a jewel thief, and we are putting him ashore at the first port we come to.”

“I heard him tell Mick that he stole that emerald to ransom his sister. His little sister. To save her from a bad man.”

Sara fixed her with a stern glare. “Stay away from him. Go on now,” she nudged Sin in the back. “Get some sleep.”

Reluctantly, Sin slid down from the bunk, and crept over to her pallet in the corner. “I think he likes you,” she muttered.

“Go to sleep.”

* * *

Snart strolled out on the deck in search of Mick. He found the other man studiously scanning the horizon, a coil of rope in his hand. The ship was at anchor near one of the small islands in the area, and there wasn't another, soul or ship, to be seen.

“This is a beautiful ship,” Snart remarked.

“Aye. I never seen one like her. I think the cap’n had 'er built special. The _Canary_ don‘t carry much in the way of cargo, but she can outrun anything else on the seas.”

“Where is our lovely captain this morning?” Snart tried to sound disinterested, but Mick knew him far too well. He fixed the other man with a warning gaze.

“She and the ladies are out in the lagoon, doing lady things. I suggest you keep your eyes focused firmly on the horizon…unless you want her to gut you.”

“Understood.”

Snart stared out to sea for several long moments. This place was strangely, wildly beautiful. Rather like the captain of the ship that had rescued him. And where the hell had **_that_** thought come from? He needed to focus on getting to Lisa in time - with the emerald. There was no more time to plan another heist and save his sister.

“It’s an odd crew you’ve thrown in with,” he heard himself saying. “A Zambesi warrior?”

“Amaya,” Mick acknowledged, with an indecipherable half smile. “How’d you know where she’s from?”

“That amulet she wears.”

“Been in her family for generations. Means she’s a protector or something.’”

“She’s a long way from home,” Snart noted.

“Cap’n offered to take her back, but Amaya said she’d stay on a while an’ help us; repay a debt, so to speak. Sara told her there weren’t no debt but…thing is, I don’t think Amaya’s got a home to go back to.”

“And the cabin girl?” Snart asked curiously.

“I figgered you’d notice that. We found Sin in the wreckage of her father’s ship, a few days after Slade Wilson’s crew got done with them. Her mum was dead, so she cut her hair, and dressed like a boy, and sailed with her dad, as his cabin boy. We found her hiding in a apple barrel…the only soul left alive on that ship.”

"Hmm." Snart felt an unfamiliar twinge of sympathy. He was used to just being concerned with Lisa and himself, but that was a rough thing. "And the old man?"

"Some sorta scholar. The boy--eh, he's not that young, sorry--is his assistant and pupil. Started as an apprentice shipwright though, an' he's done a lot of work on the _Canary_. Good men, both of 'em." 

Mick's not usually one to give others much credit. "Hmm," Snart said noncommittally. "And the other two?"

"Both crew, but both scholars too. Nathaniel, he mucks around with books and history. Raymond, I don't understand what he's yammering about most the time." Mick grunted with amusement at the other man's expression. "Captain, she likes learnin'. Still surprised she took me on."

Another thing that speaks well of the woman, if she saw the intelligence beneath Mick's rough exterior. "Collects people, does she?"

The big man lifted an eyebrow at him, reading him, as always, better than most. "Heh. Yer interested, ain't yeh?"

Snart's voice was cooler than he intended when he responded. "Only thing I'm interested right now is getting to London and rescuing Lisa."

"Uh huh." Mick regarded him a moment longer, then shook his head and sauntered away, calling out to the man named Raymond as he went. Snart shook his head and leaned against the railing again, gazing out at the water.

"Not interested," he muttered to himself, watching a gull bank and soar smoothly past the ship, while another landed a few feet away and regarded him with avian interest. "The idea."

The bird regarded him with a bright black eye, then squawked. Even it sounded derisive.

* * *

Snart gave it about a day before he went in search of the captain again. It was, he told himself, simply to see if she'd decided anything about the emerald. And him. Not because he's intrigued by her. Not because she's gorgeous.

The man named Nate directed him to the starboard side of the deck, with the slightly amused air of someone waiting to see if there will be bloodshed. When Snart finds her, standing and gazing at the waves, he keeps that amusement in mind--and makes sure to circle around carefully, giving her plenty of time to see him before he strolls up beside her. 

Sara turns her head to survey him as he does, but she says nothing, turning back out to study the ocean.

“You look as if you’ve got more on your mind than just deciding where to put me ashore,” Snart said carefully.

“Mick said that the man who has your sister is Damien Darhk.”

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of him.”

“Tell me, Master Snart, have you ever heard of the League of Assassins?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“Most people haven’t. The League prefers it that way. Damien Darhk used to be one of their members.” A beat. “And so was I. The difference is, I left because I couldn’t stomach the killing anymore.” She held up a hand to forestall his protests. “I’ll kill if I need to - to defend myself or someone else, but the idea of just murdering someone while they sleep…I just…I can’t. Darhk isn’t like me. He left the League to pursue his own agenda, which means a great deal of killing, without even the strictures of the League to keep him in check. The thing is, there’s only one way to leave the League.”

“And I take it, it’s not voluntarily.”

“Never known anyone to voluntarily jump into their own grave. Have you?”

“No.”

“The League is after both of us. One of the ways I stay out of their cross hairs is by keeping half the globe between me and Darhk. If I help you with this, if I get that close to him -”

“You risk attracting their attention - in spades. I understand." Snart shrugged. "But this is my sister. I have to try.”

“I understand that, too. Just…let me think about it, all right?”

“That’s all I can ask.” His words were quiet, and for a moment, they just stood together and watched the sea.

“Say I was to help you," Sara said finally. "Where is your sister?”

“En route from the Massachusetts Bay Colony to London.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “You don’t strike me as a colonial.”

“I was born in Boston," Snart informed her. "My father worked as a man-at-arms for a wealthy merchant. The mistress had no children of her own, and she was very kind to Lisa and me. She taught us to read, taught Lisa fine needlework, and was trying to persuade her husband to have me apprenticed to a silversmith. We could have had a good life.”

“But?”

“But my father got greedy." He shrugged. "Story of his miserable life.”

“Well, I do need to return Master Palmer to the continent. It seems our interests coincide, for the moment. I’ll see how close I can get you.”

“And you?” Snart asked curiously. “Where is home?”

“Marblehead,” Sara admitted.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“More than you could ever know. My father was a constable, and my mother taught a dame school. I ran away to sea with the son of the wealthiest man in town. We were going to Jamaica. His father was furious when I was discovered - swore he’d drag us into the first chapel he could find and have us married.” She stared off into the sea for a long, long moment. “We never got there, of course.”

It was on his tongue to ask what became of her lover...but it'd take a less perceptive man than he not to realize it was nothing good.

And he didn't know why, but he wanted, suddenly, to do something to take that expression from her eyes. 

"Funny," he said, looking out at the water himself, "how these things work. You may never have planned to end up here.... but you belong here. You're obviously an excellent captain. A born leader." He shrugged when she glanced up at him. "Your people respect you. And Mick's told me...how much good you do. You probably couldn't have any of that, if you'd just run away to Jamaica."

She was quiet another moment. Then: "And you, Master Snart? Have you wanted to be...better than you are?"

The question cut. "Yes," he said after a moment. "I know Mick told you that, too. I was trying...well, it doesn't matter. I did what I had to do, to save my sister. I always will."

"And once she's saved?" Sara's eyes were direct. "Will you try to be...more...again? Or will you go right back to self-preservation and thievery? Robbing people? Hurting them? "

 _What else would I do?_   But he didn't ask the question, just gazed back at her. The silence lengthened, until they both looked away.

“I think that’s enough sharing for one day,” Sara said quietly. She walked away, leaving him at the ship’s rail, staring out at the restless waves.


	2. Off the Coast of Africa

* * *

 

“Enter!” Sara called, in response to a diffident tap on her door.

“Good day, Captain.”

“Martin,” she greeted the bespectacled older gentleman. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed to see the professor rather than the intriguing jewel thief. Sara shook her head sharply to banish such a fancy.

“I was wondering if I might have the chance to examine the Maximilian Emerald? Take some measurements and notes, perhaps speak with the gentleman who…er…”

“Stole it,” Sara finished the sentence for him. She opened her strongbox and produced the gem with an air of tolerant amusement.

“Oh, my word. This is simply astonishing!”

Sara’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she mouthed the last word along with him. “It doesn’t leave this room,” she told him sternly.

“Of course,” he mumbled absently, taking careful measurements and jotting down notes.

* * *

It seemed their passenger was trying to make a good impression during his time on the ship. He truly seemed to take a great interest in everything, from the day-to-day workings of the _Canary_ to the stories and welfare of the crew. Or, at least, some of them.

Sara kept herself carefully out of sight as she watched their guest teach Sin to tie and untie some new knots. Leonard Snart might not be considered fashionably handsome, but those piercing blue eyes were incredibly attractive, and there was just something about those clever hands of his…

She heard a faint noise behind her, but didn't turn. There was only one person on this ship who could sneak up behind her, and that person would only make a noise at all simply to let the captain know she was there.

“So, you’ve decided to help this man with his rescue mission?” Amaya asked, nonchalantly, leaning against a mast.

“Not quite.”

“And yet, you’ve set a course for London.”

“I’ve set a course that can be easily adjusted in any number of directions. And we do have a crew member who needs to be returned to the continent.”

“You like him,” Amaya murmured, standing close enough that her voice wouldn’t carry.

“Shut up.”

Amaya just grinned and wandered off to get Mick to pay up.

* * *

 

No matter how many pains she took to maintain the illusion of indifference, however, those same piercing eyes could apparently see through it. Not a minute or two after she'd settled on the steps to the poop deck, the thief took his leave of Sin (with what looked like a rejoinder to practice) and sauntered toward her.

Snart settled casually a few steps below where the captain was perched. “Look, I know you don’t trust me,” he began.

“I don’t generally make it a habit to trust thieves and smugglers,” she confirmed.

“But you don’t need to watch me like a hawk. Everything I’m doing is to save my sister. My younger sister, who I practically had to raise myself. I would never hurt a child. You have my word.”

Sara couldn’t see his face, the way they were arranged on the steps, but there was no trace of banter or flirting in his tone, for perhaps the first time since they’d met.

“I just need to know that my sister is safe," he told her.

"And I need to keep everyone on this ship safe," she replied crisply.

"You take care of your crew. I get that. I respect it." He glanced away, then looked back, eyes direct. "I even envy it."

The last four words were so soft as to be difficult to hear, and she wondered briefly if he envied the crew or her, with a crew to take care of. 

But she didn't say another word.

And neither did he.

They sat together for a long while, in silence.

* * *

But the sea has many moods, and not all of them are friendly or gentle. Not long later, the _Canary's_ newest occupant got another firsthand look at her anger.

Leonard had never experienced a storm like this before, a fact for which he was profoundly thankful. Even the more experienced members of the crew were exhibiting some degree of misery. Poor Sin was the worst. The girl had been nonstop sick for the last several hours.

“Please…can’t we go up top? Just for a minute?” she begged, her face greasy with sweat.

“All right,” he agreed dubiously.

* * *

Sara turned as she heard the hatch open, thinking it had blown loose. She scowled as she saw Snart standing there, his arm locked around Sin, clearly the only thing keeping her upright. The man had the grace to look dismayed by the rain sheeting across the deck, and the waves crashing around them. Sin just threw herself a bit to the side and puked.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” she raged.

“The girl needed some air!”

“Get back below before I toss you overboard myself!”

Snart stepped back inside, pulling the hatch securely shut behind him.

* * *

The storm finally broke, and other crewmembers emerged to relieve Mick and Sara. Mick took himself off in search of food and dry clothes, while the captain made one last inspection. No apparent damage, praise be. Then she headed below, intending to have some words with their passenger.

She noticed Mick heading into Amaya’s cabin, and frowned. She turned and entered Mick’s room, which he had been sharing with Snart. He nearly collided with her on the threshold. He was carrying a particularly vile-smelling wooden bucket. Looking past him, Sara saw her two youngest crew members asleep in the bunks, and her expression softened.

“They’re asleep,” Snart confirmed. “I’m no physician, but I think they’ll be fine, now that we’ve stopping pitching about so badly.”

“Thank you,” Sara said simply, after a long moment. “But the next time I tell you to stay below -”

“Understood. I’ve never seen a storm like that,” he admitted, with a gleam of pure respect in his eyes.

“What do you suppose wrecked the last ship you were aboard?”

He nodded again, and went to dispose of his burden.

* * *

He couldn't help it. The longer he was on this ship, the more she drew him. And as the days went by, he started to think that, just perhaps, his company was every bit as welcome to her.

Snart sidled up next to Sara at the rail. “I’m no expert, but that looks to me like a port. Waaaaay over there.”

Sara shrugged slightly. “There’s nothing I need waaaaay over there. You?”

“Not a thing,” he agreed, as the Canary slipped on past the nameless port.

The captain seemed disinclined to leave her place at the rail, and he was emboldened to ask a question that had been on his mind. “Why Jamaica?” he asked curiously.

“It’s where the boat was headed,” she replied flippantly, then looked at him sidewise. “Seriously? You have to ask a fellow New Englander why she’d want to go to a place where it’s always summer? Where I could wear muslin and silk, instead of six layers of scratchy wool?”

“You have a point,” he conceded with a low chuckle.

“And…he asked me. Not my sister, not some rich society girl. Me.”

There was something wistful in her tone and words that had him struggling to compose a coherent response. He knew the ways of society, of course, but still - she was beautiful, and brave, and clever - how could she be any man’s second choice?

Fortunately, or unfortunately, they were interrupted.

“Ah, Captain Lance! And Master Snart, I believe? The Captain very kindly permitted me to examine the Maximilian Emerald. It’s quite astonishing! Nathaniel and I were wondering if you might answer some questions for us?”

“Master Snart, Professor Stein,” Sara said by way of introduction, once the old man paused for breath. She looked between the three men with narrowed eyes. “How is this the first time you’re speaking to one another?”

“Er…well…you know, Nathaniel and I spend much of our time in study. And well, it‘s not as if we move in the same circles as Master Snart.”

Snart crossed his arms across his chest. “What he means is, I’m a thief, and he doesn’t approve.”

Sara shook her head in disbelief. “Look, this is my ship and I say who sails on it. Unless or until Master Snart gives me a good reason to chuck him overboard, he’s a part of this crew, just like you and Nate. Now, if you’d care to discuss something with Master Snart, I’d suggest asking him civilly.”

“Of course,” the professor replied, chastened. “Master Snart, I wonder if you would be so good as to answer some questions for us?”

“With your permission?” Snart asked, glancing at Sara.

Sara nodded her consent, and moved away.

“Thank you!” Stein began enthusiastically. “Nathaniel has found something quite remarkable in one of his books, and we were hoping you might be able to corroborate it…”

* * *

The following day, Martin Stein approached the captain and first mate as they stood, deep in discussion, on the deck. “Captain Lance, Master Rory.”

“What can we do for you, Professor?” Sara asked.

“I was wondering if we were in the vicinity of a port city with a library?”

“Not for some time, Professor,” Sara said as patiently as she could manage.

“Ah. I see. Er, Master Rory…how well do you know Master Snart?”

Mick shrugged. “Known him since we was boys, why?”

“Martin?” Sara prompted, with a raised eyebrow that indicated her wish for him to get to the point.

“You see, there are myths…legends, if you will, attributing powers to the Maximilian Emerald.”

“Powers?” Mick scoffed. “You mean like magic?”

“Perhaps. Nathaniel and I would like a chance to read more thoroughly on the subject. There are also disturbing rumors about this man who is holding Master Snart’s sister.”

“Those aren’t just rumors,” Sara confirmed in a quiet tone.

“Snart ain’t in league with some evil sorcerer,” Mick told them. “His father’s a bad sort, an’ he dragged Leonard down with him, but he’s been trying to change, to be better. He wants to save his sister. That’s it.”

Martin looked troubled. “Even if Master Snart seeks only to rescue his sister, what if giving the emerald to Damien Darhk somehow enables him to commit greater harm? There may be more than Miss Snart’s life in the balance.”

“Enough,” Sara said firmly. “Martin, I understand your concerns, but these waters aren’t the safest place for us. We need to keep moving. Besides, any library you’d find in this part of the world, you wouldn’t be able to read the books, anyway.”

“But you might.”

“I might. And it wouldn’t do us any good if I was seen and taken, now would it? When we are in a safe place, I’ll gladly let you and Nate go ashore and read to your heart’s content, but not when it puts us all at risk. We’re done here.”

* * *

“Good day,” Snart offered pleasantly as he passed Raymond Palmer on deck.

The other man nodded and kept walking.

“Have I offended you in some way, Master Palmer?” Snart called after him.

“Actually, it’s Doctor Palmer, and no, of course not.”

“All right. Doctor, eh?”

“Four times over. Oxford, the Sorbonne, Barcelona, and Ingolstadt.”

“Impressive. It must have been wonderful to have so many opportunities.”

“It was,” Raymond allowed, “but not having opportunities is no excuse for turning to a life of crime.”

“Well, it’s nice to know you have all the answers, _doctor,”_ Snart replied blandly.

* * *

Sara turned in a slow circle, looking at each of her three recalcitrant crew members in turn. “No, no, and no. We are here for food and water only. No side trips. We need to be underway as quickly as possible.” She turned the half circle again, for emphasis. “And if any of you are missing when I get back, I’ll sail without you. Mick, you have the ship. Keep Jefferson and Amaya below decks.”

Mick nodded and glared at the other three until they moved away from the gangplank.

Snart snapped his battered watch shut and approached the captain. “Will you be all right on your own?”

Sara glared at him, and he raised a hand in a placating manner.

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just…some places, people aren't used to dealing with a woman on her own.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied. “I’ve got a contact in a warehouse on the waterfront.”

“Do you need anything to bargain with?” he offered, pulling a small coin pouch from his pocket.

 **“** That’s not necessary.”

He shrugged. “Seems only fair to offer. I’ll be eating some of the food you’re going to purchase.”

“Thank you for the offer, but the best thing you can do is stay aboard the ship. I don’t want to have to go hunting for anyone -”

“In case you need to make a quick getaway?” Snart said, with a smirk.

“Something like that.”

* * *

But of course, the best laid plans don't always-or often-stay that way.

“Where’s the illustrious Doctor Palmer going?” Snart said quietly as he stood on the deck and watched the milling crowd of humanity near the west African port.

“What?” Mick exclaimed, looking where Snart pointed, just in time to see the tall dark-haired man vanish into the crowd. “Son of a bitch!” He glanced around wildly, but the only person he’d actually trust to hold the ship was Amaya, and it wasn’t safe for her to be visible in this place.

“I’ll get him.”

Mick’s face was an alarming shade of red and he spat out a few more choice oaths. “Be quick about it. Cap’n wasn’t kidding about leaving him behind. Not sure she’d make an exception for you, either.”

“Understood.” Snart moved quickly to the gangplank.

* * *

Snart moved rapidly along the waterfront, on a lookout for a tall man dressed far too well for the area. Not surprisingly, he heard sounds of a scuffle before he saw it. Wondering what the hell he was thinking, Snart slipped his knife into his palm and slid around the corner. He knocked the first ruffian out before anyone realized what was going on. He moved toward the second with purpose, knife held menacingly, but the man turned and ran the minute he got a good look at it. Snart shook his head, then rifled the first man's pockets thoroughly before turning to the groaning man on the ground.

“How badly are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Raymond insisted stubbornly.

“I hope so. I’m certainly not carrying you back to the ship.” He held out his hand.

“Thank you,” Raymond said, accepting the help.

* * *

Supplies were being loaded on to the _Canary_ as they hurried down the dock, moving as fast as they could with Raymond leaning heavily on Snart‘s shoulder. Snart winced, noting that the captain had a rather piercing voice when she put her mind to it. Also, a formidable selection of curse words at her command.

“It was my fault, captain,” Raymond admitted, as soon as they were aboard. “If it wasn’t for Master Snart here…well…”

“That’s why I told you to stay here,” Sara seethed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

He moved to go below, but Snart stopped him. “I believe these are yours.” He handed over a purse and a handsome gold watch. Raymond nodded his thanks, and went to get cleaned up.

Snart sifted through his pockets and produced another purse, which he handed to Sara. “Contribution to the supply fund.”

“Thank you, Master Snart.”

“Leonard.”

“Leonard. And thank you for saving that idiot.”

* * *

Snart snapped his watch shut at the sound of heavy footsteps. He turned to see Raymond sporting a few painful-looking souvenirs of his waterfront adventure.  

“Master Snart, I wanted to thank you, again, for saving me. And to apologize. I made assumptions, and I’m very sorry.”

He held out his hand, and Snart shook it firmly.

“Maybe next time someone tells you to stay put, you might want to listen," he told the other man, a little acerbically. "You’re a very well-educated gentleman, but sometimes, other people have more experience in the real world.”

“I guess I deserved that.” Raymond noticed the battered watch in Snart’s hand and frowned.

Snart noticed what he was looking at. “I suppose you’re wondering why a jewel thief didn’t steal himself a finer watch, aren’t you?” he said with a bitter twist to his lip.

“Well…”

“It’s because I didn’t steal this. It was my grandfather’s.” He opened it, revealing a small portrait. “That’s my sister Lisa, when she was a little girl.”

“She’s very lovely,” Raymond said. “She’s the one you’re trying to rescue, isn’t that right?“ He focused intently on the watch. “I think you’ve forgotten to wind it. The hands aren’t moving.”

“It hasn’t worked since it got soaked in the shipwreck.” He considered the picture a moment. "I'm grateful the portrait was sealed well enough to be protected, but..."

“I’m so sorry. I’m quite good with mechanical things. Would you like me to see if I can fix it?”

Snart hesitated, his gaze fixed on Lisa’s image.

“I’ll keep it safe for you, Master Snart. Even if I can’t get it working again.”

Finally, Snart nodded and handed him the precious keepsake.

* * *

 

There were many tasks necessary to keep a ship like the _Canary_ running properly. Large tasks, like fishing and sail mending, and smaller ones, like maintaining personal weapons.

One day, Sara entered the armory to refill her powder horn. Leonard was there and an interesting array of knives and small tools was spread out on a piece of canvas, along with a small bottle of oil. He was meticulously honing a blade with a whetstone.

 One of the weapons caught her eye, and she picked it up, checking the balance. It had a wickedly curved blade, and a curiously heavy pommel.

“That’s an interesting piece of theater,” she said lightly, setting it back down.

Leonard just raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not balanced correctly to throw. In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say it was just for show.”

“Not quite. It makes an excellent bludgeon.”

Sara sat down on a barrel and folded her arms in an exaggerated show of patience.

Leonard chuckled softly. “All right. It is mostly for intimidation. Most men take one look and run.”

“And the ones who don‘t run?”

“Go to sleep for a while.”

“So why not just a throwing knife or a club?”

“I don’t much care for brute force." Leonard shrugged. "I prefer to think my way through things. It’s a way of keeping score, I suppose. Say there’s something inside a house that I want to steal. I study the house, and the people in it, their comings and goings. If I can get in, get the thing that I want, and get out again, without hurting anyone, or getting caught - then I win.”

“That’s an…interesting viewpoint.”

“My father never bothered with subtleties. He’d leave a trail of bodies and damage wherever he went." His lip curled. "I think that’s lazy and stupid, and I know it’s why he’s been caught so many times.”

“And you?”

“I’ve never been caught, and I rarely leave bodies behind. It’s simpler that way. Elegant.”

“That’s not a word one expects to hear from a common thief.” 

“There’s nothing common about me,” he said with a smirk that should have been infuriating.

* * *

 

“Master Snart!”

Snart turned at the sound of Raymond’s voice. The other man held out his watch, ticking and polished. The thief swallowed hard as he took it carefully into his hand. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Raymond told him sincerely. He took a good, long look around at the billowing sails, the crystal blue sky, and the scudding waves. “I’m going to miss all this.”

“I thought you were part of the crew?”

“I am, after a fashion. I wanted to see all the things that I’d only read about in my books. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

Snart frowned. “I’d have thought someone like you would have a place in his father’s business?”

“I do. That’s why my agreement with Captain Lance specified that I be returned, if not all the way home, to a point on the continent from which I could book passage the rest of the way. There’s to be a grand ball announcing my betrothal for Twelfth Night.”

And then something clicked into place in Snart's mind. “Your family - is your home called Palmer House?”

“Our London residence, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Because the meeting to ransom my sister is to take place at a Twelfth Night ball at Palmer House in London.”

“It’s to be a very grand affair," Raymond told him, leaning on the railing. "The marriage will seal a business deal between my family and Anna’s. Our parents will have arranged the guest list. I’ve no idea who might be included."

He gave the crook a tentative smile. “I’ll speak to the captain. If she can’t get me all the way to London, perhaps you and I might travel together the rest of the way. I feel I owe you that."

"You don’t owe me anything.”

“You're trying to save a young lady from an unwanted marriage to a very bad person. Those are the actions of a hero.”

“I’m no hero,” Snart said dismissively.

“The actions of a loving brother, then.”

* * *

“All I’m saying, Captain, is that now there’s two of us who need to get to London in time for Twelfth Night.” Raymond leaned toward the captain, an appeasing smile on his face.

But Sara just shook her head at him. “And I said, I’ll consider it, Doctor Palmer.” She glanced at Leonard, who wondered if he only saw the touch of regret in her eyes.

Regardless, Raymond kept chattering on. “If it’s a matter of compensation, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. Master Snart is eager to save his sister, and I’m eager to meet my fiancé.”

Leonard frowned. He couldn’t imagine agreeing to spend the rest of his life with someone he’d never met.

Raymond looked at him with compassion in his eyes. “You’re thinking that this is like the arrangement you’re trying to save your sister from, but it’s really not. Anna and I have written to each other. We’re of the same upbringing, and interests. I’ll always be kind to her and take proper care of her.”

Sara leaned forward intently. Her gaze flickered to Leonard, then back to the overly enthusiastic inventor. “You know, Raymond, a fine home and security aren’t everything.”

“They are to some people.” The inventor stood then, nodding to the captain before taking his leave.

Sara looked at Leonard again, the crook quickly averting his eyes.

"Can't imagine you'd much want someone taking care of you," he murmured, though, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"You'd imagine right... for the most part." She looked down at the chart on the table, the one she'd been studying when Raymond had dragged their passenger in here. "A crew, a team, who has my back? That's different."

"A good crew takes care of each other."

"Yes, but it's not the same as that sort of ... gilded life." She reached out, traced a line on the chart. "I can't imagine anything more stifling that to be guarded and cosseted my entire life."

"You might have had that life, once." Again, the low, low tone.

"I didn't know what I wanted then. I do now."

"Do you?"

She glanced up them, found that he'd moved even closer to her, those blue eyes gazing intently into hers. One step closer and he'd be close enough to...

She licked her lips, noticed with interest how his eyes went to them.

"Captain!" Mick's voice then, roaring outside of the cabin. "Need a hand when you got a moment!"

They both started back. Sara, taking a deep breath, drew composure around her like a cloak, then turned away and quickly walked from the cabin...leaving a thoroughly distracted crook behind her.

* * *

Sara looked firmly at her inventor, historian, and scholar in turn. “Do not get separated. Be back before dark. Stay on the main streets. Casablanca is a big place, and not all of it is safe for foreigners. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, ma’am,” all three muttered in unison.

Sara jerked her head in the direction of the door, and they filed out. Her privacy was disturbed not two minutes later by a sharp rap at the door.

“Enter!”

Leonard Snart slid inside the cabin with his usual grace.

“And what do you want?” Ever since that near-kiss, she'll admit, she'd been avoiding him just a little. Not out of a lack of interest. Rather the opposite.

Unbeknownst to her, though, the intruder in her cabin has been feeling the same way.

“A bit a fresh air? A turn around the marketplace, perhaps? And some company?” he added, holding his breath to see if an explosion was forthcoming.

Sara relaxed slightly and even smiled at him. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about you getting waylaid in an alley. And if I come with you, hopefully you won’t do anything to get arrested.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah. I could use a drink.”

* * *

Sara observed quietly as Leonard traded for various things in the marketplace. Some were practical, like a new razor and set of shoe buckles. The string of pretty painted beads caused a funny little pang that faded when he explained that it was a gift for his sister. She shrugged and moved along to a sweet vendor to get a treat for Sin. It was no business of hers what he bought, or who it was for.

After the shopping, Sara took Leonard to a tavern and bought them both bowls of lamb and rice. She laughed as the spices caused him to gulp from his wine goblet.

The laughter faded as a large hand, attached to a very smelly man, descended on her shoulder. Sara shrugged the offending appendage away and uttered something in a language Leonard didn’t understand. The tone, however, was universal. However, he kept his seat, taking his cue from Sara.

She turned, without rising and fixed the intruder with a steady glare. From where he was sitting, Leonard could also see the tip of a knife protruding from her sleeve - and pressing firmly against something the other man would probably prefer **_not_** be punctured.

He backed off, with his hands raised, and Sara turned back to their meal. Leonard relaxed when the group of French soldiers who’d risen to their feet also subsided back into their seats.

“Tell me,” he asked conversationally, “how many of those have you got hidden on you?”

“That’s for me to know,” she replied coolly. “But thank you for following my lead. Most men wouldn’t.”

“You’ve been here before. I haven’t. And I’ve seen enough to know you can take care of yourself.”

“This is not a good place to get thrown into a dungeon. There’s so many different kinds of soldiers here, you could rot before they figure out whose laws you broke.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

It was dusk as Sara and Leonard started to make their way back to the ship.

“Mick should have the supplies squared away. You think the others are back yet?” Leonard asked casually.

“Do I think my crew actually did what they were told? Your guess is as good as mine.” Sara stopped and sniffed critically. “Do you smell that?”

Leonard sniffed and shrugged. “It’s a harbor. I smell dead fish and the contents of last night’s chamber pots.”

But just then, the smelly man from the tavern stepped out of the shadows - with friends.

“Really?” Sara sighed theatrically. The first one was dropped by pistol shot from the gun up her sleeve. The next met her fists - and feet. And so did the next.

Leonard stuck the next one with his knife...and then Mick and Amaya were there, wading into the fray and helping scatter the others.

“I think it’s time we left,” Sara said as they scrambled up the gangplank, just as she turned to start shouting orders.

* * *

“How did you know we needed help?” Sara asked Mick as they cleared the port with no signs of pursuit.

The big man actually seemed to be blushing as he replied. “Well…er…Amaya and me, we got this spot -”

“Ah. Well, in this case, I’m glad you did. Please tell me the other three made it back aboard.”

“They did.”

“Wonders never cease.” Sara looked at her bloody hands. “I’m going below. Have Sin bring me a basin of water, would you?”

“Sure thing, Cap’n.”

* * *

“Come,” Sara called in response to the tap on her door. To her surprise, it wasn’t Sin, but Leonard, with her basin of water.

“Just wanted to be sure you were all right,” he said, by way of explanation. Leonard set the basin on top of Sara’s desk, then picked a small vial from his pocket. He carefully uncorked it and added a few drops to the water.

A smile lit Sara’s face at the scent of lavender. She pushed her sleeves up past her elbows, then gratefully lowered her sore hands into the water.

“I got that for you, at the market,” he said quietly, setting the vial on her desk.

"Hmm? How did you know I like lavender?" She flexed her fingers gently in the warm water, relaxing muscles she didn't know were tense, and glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "And thank you."

"You're welcome. And lucky guess?" She caught the flash of an actual smile as he turned away from a moment. "Floral and feminine, but not fussy. And not overwhelming. More subtle. Seemed like...you."

"I think that was actually a compliment, Ma... Leonard." She raised an eyebrow as he turned back with a towel in his hands. "You don't need to do that."

"Want me to go?"

Was there...actually a tiny bit of a challenge there? "No," she said, greatly daring. "I don't."

The corner of his mouth lifted a tiny bit. Then he pulled up a chair next to her, sitting just close enough for their legs to brush, before he dipped the towel in the basin. Then he picked up one of her hands.

She drew in a quick breath at the way his thumb brushed her palm, keeping her eyes on their hands. Working efficiently and thoroughly, he gently cleaned the dried blood from her knuckles with small, careful strokes, lowering one hand back into the water before lifting the other and doing the same.

Sara was pretty sure she wasn't imagining how his motions slowed as he finished cleaning her right hand or, as she lifted her eyes, the way he swallowed as he stroked the pad of his thumb across her palm again.

But then, instead of lowering her hand back to the water, he pulled another towel from the back of his chair and dried it off, so gently. And then he lifted that hand to his lips.

She bit her lip as his lips brushed her knuckles, so carefully that even the abraded flesh didn't hurt. Then he turned her hand over and kissed her palm. 

And then, her wrist, those blue eyes still fastened on hers, something both determined and tentative in them. And then, as he scooted just a little closer, farther up her wrist to the sensitive inside of her elbow. She was breathing quickly, now, she knew. And so was he.

She should pull her arm away, she thought. She should reprimand him for the familiarity. She should...

To hell with it, she thought. She was the captain of her own goddamned ship. She should do what _she_ wanted.

She wanted _him_.

 With that thought, she reached out with her other hand and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling it, and him, closer until she could kiss him fiercely. And after a moment of startlement, he was kissing her back, hands moving to her shoulders as they leaned into each other, lost in each other...

"Captain! Did you...eep!"

The door bangs shut again, but the moment's gone. Sara, who'd broken the kiss the minute Nathaniel had thrown the door open, took a deep breath.

"Well," she said, "he'll never do that again, I bet."

 


	3. Europe

Sin was happily engrossed in the wonderful flaky pastry that Sara had bought for her when Nate and Jefferson entered the galley, wrangling cheerfully.

“But what did you actually see?” Jefferson wanted to know.

“Enough to make me shut that hatch, double quick. I like keeping my insides where they belong, thanks all the same.”

“Little pitchers have big ears,” Amaya said, nodding towards Sin.

“Huh?” Jefferson asked.

“She means, shut yer yap,” Mick rumbled.

The two younger men exchanged a look, then moved over to where Sin was sitting.

“Say, Sin,” Jefferson began, “You spend a lot of time with the captain. Do you think she likes Master Snart?”

“Stop it,” Amaya said firmly.

Sin shrugged her skinny shoulders. “I think he gave her a present.”

Curious, in spite of herself, Amaya asked, “Why do you think that?”

Mick shot her a look, but she just shrugged apologetically.

“I visited her after Master Snart left. She gave me a pastry...and her room smells pretty,” Sin explained. "Different."

“Oh, like what?” Nate asked coaxingly.

“Perfume!” Jefferson said. “Persian perfume, from the market in Casablanca.”

“It smells like something my mum used to grow in our garden,” Sin replied quietly.

Amaya moved quickly to wrap her arm comfortingly around the young girl, while Mick got to his feet and chivvied the other two back to work.

* * *

Sara looked up from the chart she was studying at the sound of footsteps. Martin, Raymond, and Nate stood before her. “I take it you three found something in the library at Casablanca?”

“We think so,” Raymond confirmed.

“The books were very old,” Nate added, “but we’re certain that they’re talking about the Maximilian Emerald.”

“Captain, it cannot be permitted to come into Damien Darhk’s possession!” Martin said fervently.

“You’re talking about legends from old books versus a woman’s life,” Sara replied.

“Captain, you know the rumors about Darhk, better than anyone. If what we’ve discovered is true, he could gain unspeakable powers from that jewel.”

“And hurt a great many people,” Raymond finished grimly.

Sara drew in a deep breath. “Sin, run up and ring the bell. I think we all need to discuss this.”

* * *

They gathered around the ship’s wheel, which Amaya was manning.

Sara looked around, ensuring that everyone was present. “We need to discuss something. This is too important for any one person to make the decision…it needs to be a consensus.” She sought out Leonard’s deep blue eyes before continuing.

“I think you all know by now, Master Snart stole the Maximilian Emerald, intending to use it to ransom his sister from Damien Darhk. I was originally of a mind to put him ashore in Calais, and let him continue his journey from there, but Martin, Raymond, and Nate have uncovered some disturbing information. They think it could be catastrophic for Darhk to come into possession of the emerald. I’m asking for your thoughts.”

Raymond stepped forward. “What if I made a copy, and Master Snart used that to rescue his sister? The exchange is to take place at a grand ball. It’s unlikely he would do anything untoward in such a setting.”

“That’s a steep bet, from what I’ve heard of this guy,” Mick muttered.

“Leonard?” Sara asked, his given name slipping from her mouth without conscious thought.

“It has possibilities. It would have to be a very good copy, though.”

“Leave that to me,” Raymond assured him, with a wide boyish grin.

“There is one more thing,” Sara said, uneasily. “You all know that I’m always looking over my shoulder. The same people who are after me, are after Darhk. If we go there, it narrows their focus. They could catch all of you in the crossfire.”

Mick stepped up. “Cap’n…Sara…we’re your crew. Where you go, we go. And we look after each other. Always.”

* * *

Snart watched as patiently as he could for as long as he could. Raymond, Martin, and Nate seemed content to take their time penning copious notes and taking meticulous measurements of the emerald.

“If all these rumors about Damien Darhk are correct, won’t he know that we’re handing him a fake?” he finally asked.

Martin looked up slowly. “That’s always a possibility, I suppose. But as Raymond said, the exchange is to take place at a festive event. We can only hope that he will exercise some measure of discretion and not be able to closely examine the jewel until it’s too late.”

“I don’t like staking my sister’s life on ‘possibilities’ and ‘hopes.’ ” 

Raymond smiled reassuringly. “My father is always surrounded by armed guards, and he has a great deal of influence. One way or another, we will free your sister.”

“Where will this fake jewel come from?” Snart asked, trying to focus on something he could control, instead of worrying about things he could not.

“My father owns a glass furnace in London. The artists there create amazing things. I have faith in them.”

* * *

Leonard wandered up to a sheltered spot on the deck and settled down in a comfortable sprawl. He pulled a pack of playing cards from his pocket and shuffled them restlessly.

After just a moment, a shadow fell over him, and he glanced upward to see the captain standing there, watching him.

“You look like someone in need of a distraction,” Sara said playfully.

“I am,” he agreed, shading his eyes to see her better.

“Where did you get these?” she asked, sitting down cross-legged next to him and snatching the cards from his hands.

“From that fellow who made such a kind contribution to the supply fund.”

"How generous of him." She snuck another glance at him, cards in hand. "Fancy a game?"

"Of course."

"Good." She started to shuffle the cards. "Talk to me."

"About what?" He regarded her a long moment, wondering where this conversation was about to go...

"Your sister. If we're going to risk ourselves to rescue her, I'd like to know more about her."

He stifled a twinge of disappointment, picking up his cards. "Of course. Well. You know a bit about our father..."

* * *

 

And then, as it will, time passed.

The scholars of the group continued to study and squabble. Mick and Amaya watched in amusement, but kept their own counsel. The _Canary_ kept sailing. Leonard paced the deck, and played cards with the captain, and daydreamed about doing more with said captain. (Although he kept those daydreams to himself.)

What the captain thought, and felt, she also kept to herself. 

* * *

Christmas Day found the _Canary_ nearing its destination. Good cheer reigned on board. Several of the adults had conspired to create a beautifully detailed model of a full-masted ship for Sin, who was utterly delighted.

Rum and whiskey flowed rather freely as Mick kept coming up with new toasts.

Martin set a hand over his cup. “Alas, Master Rory, I am, in fact, not an actual sailor, nor do I drink like one.”

“Here,” Snart offered good naturedly, passing a bottle. “Brandy?”

“Thank you,” Martin replied, accepting a generous measure. “Wherever did you get this?”

“LeHavre.”

Raymond rose and passed a packet of papers to Sara, who seemed a bit distracted.

“What’s this?”

“Well, I know that you’re not entirely comfortable sailing the _Canary_ so far away from open water, so I took the liberty of drafting papers that identify the ship as a courier for my father's company. No one will question that, at least not at the London docks.”

“Thank you, Raymond. That does set my mind at ease,” she replied glibly.

* * *

Sara wasn’t entirely surprised when Leonard followed her back to her cabin. “What can I do for you?” she asked rather tartly.

He shrugged. “Game of cards? Maybe tell me what’s bothering you?”

She sighed. Of course he‘d noticed. “Come in.” Sara rummaged for a moment in her sea chest, then came up with a bottle of wine and two pewter goblets. “You’re not the only one who brought back a souvenir of LeHavre.” She filled the goblets and recorked the bottle.

“When we were in port…I thought I recognized someone on the docks.” She passed Leonard a goblet.

“All right,” he said neutrally.

“I’m not even sure if it was her. And I’m also not entirely sure if she’d betray me.”

“But you’re worried.”

“Yes.”

“You could just put me ashore. I’ll make my own way to London.”

“No. There’s not enough time. We’ve made the plan, and we’ll see it through.” She toyed with her goblet, not tasting her wine.

“Sara?”

She looked up.

Leonard raised his glass. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” she replied, clinking her goblet against his.

* * *

 

When the _Canary_ finally docked in London, the only one who seemed truly happy about it was Raymond, who chattered away about his hopes for Anna, who waited for him, and maybe Martin and Nathaniel, who planned to head to the nearest library and/or museum as soon as possible.

Sara stood on the deck, expression distant, as Leonard  wandered up beside her. He paused just a second, making sure she was aware of him, then drew closer so that their shoulders brushed.

"You OK?" he asked.

Finally, she shook her head, and with the ghost of a smile, bumped his shoulder with her own. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're here. Finally. After stealingthe emerald, and nearly drowning, and..."

Her voice trailed off, but he picked it up. "...and somehow, against all odds, winding up with you." He cleared his throat. "Um. I mean... 'you,' as in, this crew. This ship. I..."

But he stopped in shock as he felt her cold fingers wrap around his own and squeeze. "I understand," she murmured. "It's funny, isn't it? Of the entire ocean, of all the ships..."

"Captain!"

Sara cleared her throat, and Leonard, with a pang of regret, felt her release his hand. "Raymond. What is it?"

With a grin (did he see the hand-holding?) the other man flourished a sheaf of papers. "The design for the, uh..." He glanced around, as if someone in the harbor could hear them, then continued in a loud whisper. "...the fake jewel. I need to take it to the glass furnace."

"And?"

Raymond gave her a wounded look. "Well, I'm not quite willing to head to the, ah, bosom of my family yet." He looked a little sheepish. "I'm going to miss the ship and everyone...."

"The point, Raymond?"

"Right! Um, but I think maybe someone should go with me. You know what happened the last time."

 "You have a point," Sara allowed. "Did you ask Mick?"

"Mick has...plans." He cut in as she started to ask another question. "And so does Amaya."

"Ah."

"I'll go." Both Sara and Raymond looked at him, and Leonard shrugged. "Seems only right. This is for my sister, after all."

Sara bit her lip, then nodded at both of them. "All right. Makes sense. Take care, and don't go looking for trouble, you hear me?" She turned her full attention to Leonard, then. "I mean it. We're going to take care of this. Don't do something foolish without a plan."

 He smirked at her. "Promise."

* * *

"So, **_are_** we going to do something foolish?" Raymond sounded altogether too happy about that idea as he sauntered along with Snart, heading into a middle-class, semi-industrial neighborhood of London. "I mean, you think someone might try something? 'Cause I'm ready this time..."

"I think we'll be fine this time, Raymond." Snart shook his head in a combination of amusement and disbelief. "This isn't really the neighborhood." He was pretty sure he'd scared off at least two would-be cutpurses with a cold glare earlier, but they'd since passed into a more upper crust area. 

"Oh." Raymond looked disappointed. "That's too bad. I'm really tougher than that, you know. I..."

"Wait." The thief had stopped in his tracks, staring back down the cross street they'd just passed.

"What?"

"I thought I saw someone I know." He took a step, then another. "But what are the odds? I..." He glanced at Raymond. "I have to check it out."

The inventor drew himself up. "I have your back."

Snart considered and discarded a few responses because shrugging and going with a simple, "OK."

* * *

The tavern is a respectable one. Boring, Snart would have normally said. But if he'd seen who he thought he'd seen, that wasn't really a surprise.

He sidled in, Raymond skulking a bit too obviously behind him, casing the place with a quick and furtive look. But all the stealth was for naught...because his targets were sitting openly in a booth in the corner, and froze while taking drinks of ale.

Snart sighed and sauntered over, Raymond trailing behind him. "Ramon. Bartholomew. And what are  you doing in London?"

The two young men stared at him guiltily, frozen over their drinks. Finally, the taller of the two offered a quiet "drinking?"

"I can see that." He paused another moment, then nonchalantly sat down next to the tall one, waving a confused-looking Raymond to sit opposite. "And not looking for my sister...eh, Ramon?"

The dark-haired man looked guilty a second longer, then frowned, drawing himself up. "She got me a message before your father...I had to do _something_!  I only know he was taking her to London. I..."

"You recruited Bartholomew here, with his fast ship, and he brought you here. Where you've probably been wandering around the city with no clue what you're doing, no idea where my sister actually is, and no clear plan to rescue her."

"Well, **_you_** weren't doing anything!" Ramon shot back. "You just vanished. Don't you even care about her? You..."

But he broke off as Snart stood suddenly, drawing himself to his considerable height and leaning toward him with anger in every line. " ** _I_ ** don't care? Are you serious? Do you know..."

"Snart."

The other three men all turn their attention to Raymond, who swallowed, but continued gamely on. "He doesn't know. And he's trying to help. We could use help."

 Snart glared at him a moment, then closed his eyes. When he opened them, he shook his head and gave the other three a cool glance that was just a touch rueful. 

"You may have a point," is all he said. 

Raymond beamed, then turned to the other two. "Raymond Palmer," he introduced himself. "Dr. Raymond Palmer. I think we have a story to tell you."

* * *

Cisco’s eyes were wide as saucers as he stood at the harbor and stared at the _Canary_. “So, you’re telling me you sailed all the way from the North China Sea on a pirate ship?”

“Say it a little louder, why don’t you?” Snart muttered, shouldering past him as he headed for the ship.

“Also, I don’t think the captain would appreciate that particular term,” Raymond added. “And she’s not the sort you want to cross.”

“She?” Bartholomew asked, grinning.

‘She’ turned as the four clambered up the gangplank, folding her arms and cocking her head to one side. “Since when was picking up strays part of the plan?” Sara asked in a deceptively mild tone.

Snart winced. “We ran into a couple of friends,” he explained. “They can be rather...resourceful.”

Mick paused in the midst of coiling rope on the deck and grinned. “Bartholomew! Never thought to see you this far away from home!”

“Well, it’s all in a good cause,” the young man replied, giving the bigger man a rather uncertain glance. Mick clapped him heartily on the shoulder, and he staggered.

Sara shook her head, looking back at Leonard, who shrugged and spread his hands. "Ramon is the one I mentioned," he said in a low tone. "He means to rescue my sister. And, frankly, we're probably better served by enlisting him in some fashion--even with busy work--then letting these two blunder around until they interrupt the actual plan."

"You have a point." She glanced past him to Raymond. "Did you...?"

"Yeah. We can pick it up tomorrow." He snorted. "Apparently it pays to be the owner's son."

"Indeed." She gave him a small smile. "So...the plan proceeds."

"Indeed."

* * *

Leonard threw down his cards in disgust.

“Can’t concentrate?” Sara asked, not unsympathetically. “You’re not cheating as well as usual,” she added, trying for a joke.

“I don’t cheat,” he replied automatically.

Sara smirked. After a moment, he did, too.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…we’re here." He paused, glancing around the cabin. "Tomorrow night, I’ll see my sister again, and this will all be over.”

“We are going to get her back for you,” Sara said firmly.

“I know. It’s just…I’m not used to this…to having anyone give a damn about me or Lisa. Except for Mick, no one’s ever been on our side before.”

“That’s what it means to be part of a crew,” Sara told him gently.

“I should go. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Sara reached out and caught his hand. “Stay.”

* * *

 

Leonard had been happy to discover that the _Canary_ had a cabin devoted to disguises. There was a wide array of garments, wigs, and accessories. Some were plain and unassuming, some downright exotic. He’d had no trouble locating something suitable for the ball. He eyed the collection of wigs with distaste, trying to decide which would be the least annoying, and desperately wondering when this particular fashion would pass.

Leonard stiffened slightly as he heard someone enter the cabin behind him, but didn’t pause in his preparations. “Look, I work better alone.”

“I don’t trust you alone,” Sara informed him flatly. "You're too worried about your sister," she added, softening her tone slightly. "You need to stay focused."

“Who else can function among these sort of people? Mick? Amaya?”

“Me.”

At that, Leonard finally turned around - and immediately felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He’d thought Sara Lance was beautiful from the first moment he saw her, but **_this…_**

Her gown was blue-green satin, the color of the sea - and her eyes. It was unembellished, save for some subtle embroidery on the bodice, and snowy white lace elbow ruffles, but that only served to enhance its elegance. Sara’s hair was arranged in elaborate curls, and she wore a dainty pair of aquamarine earrings.

Without conscious thought, Leonard straightened, then immediately executed the flawless bow of a courtier. “My lady.”

“Master Snart,” she replied, acknowledging him a regal inclination of her head. Despite her impeccable posture and ladylike demeanor (And **_where_** had a girl from a colonial fishing village learned that?) there was a twinkle of mischief in Sara’s eyes.

“I suppose you’ll pass muster,” Leonard conceded, when he finally managed to get his breathing restarted.

“So glad you approve,” Sara replied tartly. “Here, help me with this,” she instructed, holding out a necklace. She was happy of an excuse to turn her back. Master Snart really cut quite a dashing figure in a fine white linen shirt and midnight blue silk waistcoat.

He took it without a word, and Sara held her curls up out of the way so he could settle the triple strand of pearls around her throat and tie the satin ribbons into a perfect bow. He breathed in the scent of lavender and squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment. It would be so easy for him to lean in, and drop a kiss to the back of her neck. He was so tempted that he’d almost begun to shift his weight slightly...

Sara felt his breath on her neck, and the minute shift in the air currents as he began to lean forward. Resolutely, she stepped forward and turned. Regret and amusement mingled in her expression. “Later.”

“Is that a promise?” Leonard was quite proud of himself for managing an even tone.

He turned quickly, perusing the wardrobe options available in the cabin, and selecting a fairly simple wig.

Sara watched with an expression of tolerant amusement.

“What? I don’t like having a mop on my head.”

Sara smiled and selected an ivory fan for herself.

* * *

The carriage pulled up in front of Palmer House, and Cisco and Bartholomew, dressed in footmen’s livery, handed Sara down. Leonard descended after her and formally extended his hand. She shot him a challenging little smirk that was totally at odds with her ladylike demeanor, then set her hand in his. He smiled, unable to resist appreciating how well her small hand fit in his.

Mick nodded once as the other two climbed up on the back of the carriage and shook the reins, moving the carriage along the path to the stable yard.

Once inside, they promenaded through the party, sampling dainty cuisine from the buffet and searching for any combination of Lisa, Lewis, or Darhk. They saw Raymond dancing with a beautifully elegant woman who must surely be his Anna.

“Would you care to dance, Leonard?” Sara asked, with a gloriously dimpled smile.

But before he could reply, a pale gentleman in an embroidered satin suit and elaborately curled wig grasped Sara’s hand and bowed low over it, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He held on a heartbeat longer than was strictly proper, and Leonard saw something in the other man’s pale, cold eyes that he didn’t like. Despite Sara’s splendid appearance, her hands betrayed her, if one knew what calluses from a childhood spent in a fishing village, and an adulthood spent handling weapons, felt like. Clearly, Damien Darhk did.

“My lady." He straightened. "Master Snart. I believe you have something of mine.”

“I could say the same of you, sir,” Leonard replied coolly. “Where is my sister?"

Wordlessly, Darhk turned and gestured to the far side of the room. Lisa looked as Leonard had described her, with a pretty, heart-shaped face, and long brown curls carefully arranged to hide a nasty scar on her collar bone. She held herself warily, despite the elegance of their surroundings. Sara attributed that to the man who stood behind her. His demeanor reeked of ‘dockside thug,’ and she knew he must be Lewis Snart.

She felt Leonard stiffen next to her, and laid a hand on his arm. Belatedly, she noticed Darhk noticing her gesture.

Concern made her voice a trifle sharp. "Leonard? Shall we?"

He touched her hand before turning back to Darhk. "I give you this, and you walk away, correct?" he murmured. "You leave my sister and I...and all our...associates...be."

Darhk now looked intrigued indeed. But he nodded. "You have my word."

"For what that's worth." 

Darhk plastered an open expression on his face. “Master Snart, this is a simple business transaction. You give me the package, and I walk away.“

The tone and expression didn’t fool Leonard or Sara. Leonard paused with his hand tucked inside his coat pocket.

“My sister stays. _He_ goes.”

He didn’t bother to call his father by name, and Darhk didn’t bother to press the issue. He just looked across the room and nodded once, sharply. Lewis nodded in response and disappeared into the crowd. Leonard passed over the canvas bag. Darhk hefted the weight in his hands, and took a quick peek. The gleaming green color seemed enough to satisfy him.

“Pleasure doing business with you both,” he said, with all outward appearance of conventional courtesy. “I do hope you enjoy the rest of the festivities.”

Leonard just nodded, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his sister. Sara tracked Darhk as he made his way toward the grand entrance hall, eventually melting into the swirling crowd.

Sara linked her arm through Leonard’s, feeling the tension in his muscles, and knowing that all he wanted to do right then was run across the room to his sister. She smiled up at him. “I’d very much like to meet your sister, Leonard. Won’t you introduce me?”

He exhaled carefully, releasing several days worth of tension. “It would be my very great pleasure.”

They crossed the ballroom as a leisurely pace. Lisa stood in the same spot. Her dress was rich and fashionably cut, not at all the sort of thing she would have chosen for herself. Leonard could see her fighting the urge to check and make sure her scar was covered. She smiled tremulously for her brother.

Leonard wanted nothing more in that moment than to gather her into his arms, as he had when they were young, but Sara’s steady presence at his side reminded him that they still had roles to play, so he settled for taking both of Lisa’s hands in his own and kissing them gently.

“Are you all right?”

Lisa nodded. Her eyes darted to her brother‘s companion.

“This is my friend, Sara.”

Lisa drew in a deep breath. “I’m so glad to see you both, but I think we need to leave.”

“What’s wrong?” Sara asked gently.

“I don’t know, exactly, but I think father and Darhk have something else planned. Something bad. The Palmer family hasn't fallen in with their plans, and I think they mean to, to punish them.” She shot them a quiet look. "And you."

Sara and Leonard exchanged looks.

 "I saw where Darhk went, too," he told her. "I'm going to follow him. Please...take Lisa to safety."

"Leonard..."

"Please, Sara. Get her out of here."

Sara gave him a long look, then nodded and took Lisa's arm. Snart took a deep breath and turned, vanishing toward the entrance hall. Sara, biting her lip, watched him go.

"Come on," she told the other woman. "I'll get you...headed in the right direction anyway."

* * *

Damian Darhk's trail, gleaned from observation and judicious questioning of party goers, led Snart in a direction he hadn't expected: through a tiny door near the entryway and into the bowels of the grand house. Cautiously, he crept down the stairs, drawing on years of a misspent life to stay silent and stealthy, undetected by Darhk.

He could have saved his energy. Darhk was long gone by the time he arrived in the cellar that was the stairs' terminating point.

The explosives Darhk had left behind, however, were not. 

It was, he'd admit, an impressive set-up: barrels of what he suspected were gunpowder, clustered around a ... something...that looked like a Ramon invention. But even a fancy set-up like that a spark needed to ignite...and that spark was steadily creeping toward it in the darkness. 

He was there before he could think about it, studying the arrangement, trying to figure out a way to disrupt it. Stomping on it didn't work; this was _not_ natural fire. He'd left his knife behind, and the fuse didn't seem to be ordinary rope anyway, but...

No time. No _time_. He winced in advance, then brought his left hand down on the fuse, gripping it tight, closing his eyes and sucking in a breath as the spark reached his hand and _burned_...

 No, he thought distantly. Definitely not natural fire. It would take a while to burn through human flesh, though, and hopefully the others, Sara and Mick and Lisa and all, would have time to flee...

"Leonard!" 

And then Sara was here, beside him, bringing a wicked-looked knife down onto the fuse, severing it before it connected to the barrels. He snatched his hand back, curling it into his chest instinctively, closing his eyes in pain. 

Sara grabbed his other hand, tugging gently. "Let's go."

But they'd barely turned away from the scene, however, when a figure stepped out of the darkness, holding tight to the arm of Leonard's sister.

Lisa looked a combination of terrified and angry. Lewis looked smug. Sara took a step forward. "I told her to flee to the stables," she told Leonard. "I got her most of the way there before I came to look for you. I had a ...bad feeling about this."

"Oh, don't blame the little baggage." Lewis' tone was lazy. "She did as she was told, for once. I simply intercepted her." He eyed Sara appreciatively. “Well, well, boy. You’re moving up in the world,“ he told his son.

Leonard didn’t deign to reply. Sara’s lips were compressed into a firm line, but her eyes flashed dangerously.

Leonard held out a hand to his sister. Lewis tightened his grip on Lisa‘s arm as she shifted towards her brother. “Where do you think you’re going, you little whore?” he snarled.

But Lisa Snart had had enough. Lifting her foot, she brought it down, hard on Lewis' .... and as he reflexively released her with a yelp of pain, Sara moved in, passing her knife back to Leonard.

Without breaking stride, Sara landed a solid punch to the right side of his jaw. “I don’t like that word,” she said in a deceptively even tone as the man reeled.

Lewis made a grab for Sara. She coolly hooked a foot behind his knee and sent him sprawling. "I’ll make you pay for that, bitch!”

“And I **_really_ ** don’t like **_that_** word,” she said in the same quiet tone. She allowed him to scramble to his feet, then landed another punch, this time to the left side of his jaw.

“Let’s go, Lisa,” Leonard said quietly.

“I can’t believe you gave up the Maximilian Emerald, just to save that little tramp!” Lewis ranted. He turned to take a wild swing at Leonard, and neatly impaled himself on the dagger clutched in his son’s upraised hand.

No, Leonard did that himself.

Implacably, Snart the younger ground the blade into Lewis’s heart, and watched the light fade from his eyes. He let the body fall.

Sara laid a gentle hand on his arm, pulling him away from the lifeless hulk that had been his father.

“He broke Lisa’s heart,” Leonard muttered. “It’s only right that I broke his.”

“I would have done it for you,” Sara told him.

He turned and reached out to gently stroke her cheek with his good hand. “I know you would have, but…he wasn’t your problem, he was mine.”

“I still -”

“I know. But you try so hard not to kill. I wouldn’t want you to compromise that. Not for me.”

Sara smiled sadly at Leonard, then looked over his shoulder at Lisa. She stepped to the other woman’s side and wrapped her arm comfortingly around Lisa’s waist. “Come on. Let’s get you away from here. There’s someone waiting for you.”

She looked down at the wreck of Lewis Snart. "Let's let him take the blame for this. For all we know, it's true."

* * *

Leonard slapped his good hand over his eyes as Lisa fell into Cisco’s arms. “I did not need to see that,” he groaned.

“Stop it,” Sara said firmly, even though her lips were twitching with amusement.

He reached up and slid the wig off his head with obvious relief.

“I like you better without it,” Sara told him impishly. And she did - his usual close-shorn hair meant that there was nothing to detract from those incredible blue eyes.

She carefully wrapped his burnt hand in clean, wet, linen that a kitchen maid had brought out for them. “Martin can tend to this properly, once we’re back aboard the ship.”

“It’s fine.”

“Leonard…”

“Really.” He looked her over carefully, then reached out to brush a smudge of dirt from her cheek. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”

She chuckled softly, knowing full well that her hair was coming down, and her knuckles were bruised from punching Lewis.

“Hey, Snart!” Mick called. “You might want to have a little chat with that fella,” he said, pointing to the corner where Cisco and Lisa were renewing their acquaintance rather enthusiastically.

The former thief got to his feet with a regretful little sigh, then plastered on a menacing expression and stalked across the stable yard.

* * *

Sara was leaning on the rail, watching the sunrise. She didn’t much care for the fact that she had to look up, over the tops of roofs and towers to see the sky. She didn’t turn away when she sensed Leonard coming up beside her to rest his arms on the rail.

“We did it.”

“We did, indeed,” Sara agreed. “How’s Lisa?”

“Resting. In your cabin, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine. As long as she feels safe, that’s all that really matters right now. And you?”

“I’m fine.”

She turned to look searchingly at him, but Leonard’s face remained impassive.

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

An errant breeze ruffled Sara’s curls, which had long since come free of their pins. Leonard smiled and gently smoothed his uninjured hand through her hair, tucking it back behind her ears. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he whispered.

* * *

Raymond came to visit the _Canary_ before they departed. “My father has a business proposition for you, Master Snart. He’d like to purchase the Maximilian Emerald. He‘ll even provide documentation that it was obtained legitimately, on a voyage that he commissioned.”

Snart just blinked.

“He’s very grateful that you saved our home from being blown up. Besides, it‘s not as if you could just walk into the Royal Exchange with it.”

“He’s got a point,“ Sara prompted.

Snart perused the papers that Raymond handed him. “That’s a very generous offer,” he replied slowly. “More than enough to give Lisa -“

 ** _“And_** Cisco,“ Sara added.

“And Cisco a good start.” He looked to Sara. “Enough to outfit the _Canary_ to go anywhere in the world.”

* * *

“Captain Lance, I wanted to thank you and your crew for all that you did to save Lisa.”

“It was our pleasure, Master Ramon,” Sara assured him.

Cisco beamed and held out a canvas bag. “A token of my appreciation. I believe you’ll find it very useful.”

“Thank you” Sara replied, opening the bag curiously. It contained a small instrument that Martin immediately snatched out of her hands.

“Master Ramon, is this really -”

“Yes, it is!” the younger man replied happily.

“But I’ve only ever seen this in one of Newton’s books -”

“I know.”

“How astonishing! Could you demonstrate it for us?”

“Of course.”

The two wandered off to the bow of the ship.

“Yeah…you just go ahead and…do that,” Sara muttered.

* * *

Cisco spied Leonard leaning against the rail and approached him apprehensively, hands clenched tight together. “Snart. I was wondering if I could speak to you…man to man.”

“What about, Ramon?” Snart drawled.

Cisco drew in a deep breath. “About Lisa. Seeing as your father is…uh…”

“Dead,” Snart supplied.

“Well, I wanted to ask for Lisa’s hand in marriage,” Cisco blurted out.

Snart straightened to his full height, looking down at the other man with cool eyes. “Ramon, if you intend to accompany my sister on a transatlantic voyage, you damn well better marry her first!”

* * *

“Did you really have to terrorize that poor fellow? He is very helpful.”

“Terrorizing my future brother-in-law is one of the great joys of my life.”

Sara chuckled softly and leaned her head against his arm. They were, finally, alone in her cabin. Both knew that words had to be spoken between them...but they both seemed to be stalling.

“What was that thing that Cisco made for you?” Leonard asked curiously.

“A navigation device. He got the idea from a book by some Englishman. Newton? Something like that. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but Martin and Raymond assure me that it does.”

A silence grew and spread while Leonard pondered how to phrase his next question - and then they both spoke at once.

“Did you ever -”

“Where will you -”

“Ladies first,” Leonard acknowledged with a slight inclination of his head.

“Where will you go, now that Lisa’s safe?”

“I don’t know. But..." He took a deep breath, then. Time to speak. "All this time we’ve been traveling, I started to wonder what the future might hold for me…and you…and me and you." He gave her a glance through his lashes. "Tell me, in all your journeys, did you ever get to see Jamaica?”

She was quiet just long enough to make him worry. Then...

“No, I didn’t. I also never got that dance I requested." She turned her head and gazed at him. "And I _am_ a ship‘s captain. I‘m accustomed to getting what I ask for.”

“I’m a thief,” he said with a shrug. “I’m accustomed to taking what I want.”

“And what is it you’re looking to steal?” Sara asked in a sultry whisper. “A kiss?”

“No.”

Sara froze, eyes wide.

“I want more. I want…everything. A future. With you.“

Sara’s eyes sparkled, as a slow smile spread over her face.

“You have a ship. There’s a whole, wide, world out there. I was thinking, maybe we could see it…together?” Leonard leaned forward for a gentle kiss.

Sara pulled back regretfully. “You know there are people hunting me. We’d never be really safe. We’d always be running.”

“I’ve been running my whole life.” He reached for her hand. “Be fun to have a partner.”

Sara tugged on their hands, pulling him closer. “Where would we run first?”

“Well, I’ve never been to Jamaica.”

She grinned, and tucked her face against his neck. “We could sail on the morning tide.”

“What’s wrong with the evening tide?”

“We’re going to be very, very busy,” she informed him.

**Author's Note:**

> *One of you* likes to point out nifty things in my fics that *I* didn't realize were there...so this time, I did it on purpose. There's a small Treasure Island reference...see if you can find it! Also one from Frankenstein. ~K


End file.
